


Hard Candy

by Cluegirl



Series: HP Drabbles [11]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble Collection, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-02
Updated: 2012-02-02
Packaged: 2017-10-30 12:36:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/331801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cluegirl/pseuds/Cluegirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of drabbles featuring Harry Potter and Ron Weasley</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Running hand in hand through a field of daisies

"Come on, Ron!" Harry screamed, lungs laboring, sweat flying as he pushed his exhausted legs for more speed, "They're right on us!" The daisies thrashed and crushed around their feet, scattering white petals like snow as they ran as though the hounds of hell were hard on their heels.

Which actually, they were.

A shriek arose behind them, drowned under a chorus of triumphant laughter, and then a shattering sizzle blazed a fiery swath through the flower-speckled field. Colin was down! 

Harry's stride faltered, and he started to turn, tears stinging his eyes, but Ron snatched his elbow and hauled him back into a stumbling run.

"He's gone!" blood darkened the copperfire of his hair, streamed down the freckled alabaster, "You can't save him, Harry, there's too many of them!"

Swearing because he didn't have the breath to cry, Harry ran, sucking the sharp, desperate smell of the daisies deep into his lungs -- green, like the killing curse that was already haunting his tongue. _Just get to the portal!_ he told himself as the standing stones came into view, Snape's towering black shape just visible in the staticky blank space between them, _Just get us both out of here. Fall apart later!_

But as they hit the rising ground, the hunters spotted them and set up the howl once more. The air around cracked with apparitions, sizzled with curses and screams and fluttering white petals. Harry ran, snitch-wild and seeker-quick, clutching Ron's hand, dragging, hauling his best mate through the deadly chaos.

At last, the portal! Harry ducked low beneath a curse, and threw himself across in a slide of crushed flowers and ozone-scorched air. "YES!" Triumph escaped his throat as the portal snapped closed behind them. 

But Ron made no reply. Made no sound at all. Harry started to turn, but Snape swooped down on him, blocked his sight, tore loose the knot he and Ron had made of their fingers. Arms like iron bands contained Harry's struggles, but not his dawning terror. "What is it? Let me go! What's wrong?"

"Don't look, Harry," was all the man would say.


	2. Ginny died in the Chamber of Secrets

Harry gasped, clenched his eyes and his teeth as the Ron's thrusts intensified. It hurt -- it always hurt when he got like this, when his blue eyes lost their sparkle and went flint-hard with memory. And then Harry knew there was only one thing he could do to bring colour back to those whitened knuckles, to steal some of the blame out of those hard-pressed lips. 

They never spoke of it, or of her, but they both knew what this was, this thing they did. They both knew what it meant when Harry buried his face in the pillows, and Ron buried his cock in his arse. They both knew it hurt, and hurt terribly, just like they both knew it had to be done. Because some sacrifices demanded atonement. Because some failures demanded punishment. Because some creeping agonies could only be banished by a sharper sort of pain.


	3. Candyland

Harry was going to die. His heart was sure of it -- his brain was sure of it -- his balls were lobbying to liquidate his assets and put everything into canned foods and shotgun shells -- and all because of Ron's tongue. 

"OhdearGodRondon'tstop!" His jaws, gummed, clenched and crystallized with sweat and sweet ached around the groan. He thrust back against the plundering tongue, smelling raspberry sauce with every panting breath. "ThereyesthereohGODplease!!!"

Who knew Ron Weasley had giraffe ancestors? For how else could Harry feel the effects of that tongue all the way up to his ears. He thrust against the sheets, but suddenly, criminally, Ron stopped, and that amazing tongue withdrew.

"Don't wanna cobe yet, Bate," Ron snuffled, smeared to the ears with raspberry sauce, and grinning like a fiend, "Got to hode out for the Chocolate Frog. Ode good jubp?"

Harry moaned. He was going to DIE!


	4. Ornamental, taste, windowpane

"I think it's just for show, Ron."

"Pshh. From Fred and George? Nothing's just for show!"

"No, really, I've seen buttons like this before," Harry turned the badge toward the light, but the purple, foursquare block on its surface did nothing interesting. "Remember the 'Potter Stinks' badges from Third year?"

"Exactly! Those at least flashed," Ron snatched the badge, and tapped it with his wand. A huge, sloppy tongue appeared mid air, and gave the badge a wet lick. "Ah-HAH!" Ron crowed, "I knew it was candy!"

Three hours later, when everything that could possibly pass for lubricant in their dorm room had been used up, Ron was still giggling, writing, debauched and rampantly horny, and Harry found himself teetering between thanking the twins for the ride of his life, and (assuming he survived till Ron came down again) shoving this year's birthday present up their arses, each in turn.


	5. "Thus have I had thee, as a dream doth flatter,/ In sleep a king, but, waking, no such matter."

It was a mistake. He never should have done it -- Ron knew it even at the time, when Harry's hand was clasping, hot and hard along his cock, when Harry's lips crushed against his -- suckling, feeding, cracking Ron's secret fantasies out of their marble catafalque. He wanted it so terribly. But it was So. Very. Wrong.

Because he could smell dreaming on Harry's breath (before his own spunk eclipsed it,) could see in those glazed green eyes that he was asleep, and the name Harry whispered in his dreams didn't begin with R...

A mistake. A big one. A huge, hungry, desperately hushed, irredeemable, unforgivable mistake. Because when morning came, it really *would* be all a dream. Harry might wonder why his sheets were clean, but that would be all. No big deal.

Harry would never remember this night.

And Ron... well Ron would never, ever forget it.


	6. "Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!"

"Ron?"

"Mm." The wind blew dancing flakes across the iron grey sky, and while Hermione shivered, Ron didn't seem to notice.

"It's getting really late." She tried not to let the worry show in her voice -- she was the calm one, the reasonable one, the one who didn't scream and cry and beg her friends not to destroy themselves with grief and self-loathing.

"Mm. S'pose."

*Do you think he'd want this?* she screamed in her head, *He loved you too much for you to do this in his memory!*

But aloud, she only said "Come inside before it snows."

He shook his head, and the icy wind ruffled his fringe. The lightning scar -- Harry's parting gift, gleamed in the twilight.

"You go on," he smiled as though he knew, as though he could hear her heart breaking, and was sorry he couldn't catch the pieces, "I'm okay here."


	7. fertility ceremony

"So. Did it work then?"

Harry grimaced. "Yeah. You could say so."

Ron beamed, thumped him on the back, and fetched a cigar out of his pocket. "Brilliant! I told you they knew what they were doing, Harry, didn't I? Luna wanted a springtime baby, and I told you we'd get her one!" Ron lit his own cigar and beamed, "So, you gonna name the sprog after me?"

Harry paled, remembering the event -- a welter of hair and limbs and sweat and musk and sweet smoke and tart potions. Ron's cock stood out particularly well in his memory. "Yeaaah, most likely." He fiddled with the cigar.

"Luna's okay with that, isn't she?" Ron asked anxiously.

Harry shook his head. "No, not really. Listen -- that ritual; you got it from Fred and George, right?"

Ron nodded, confused. "What's she mad about then?"

"She thought SHE'D be the pregnant one."


	8. The beauty is that everything changes

"You can DO that?" Harry goggled.

Ron, torn between pride and bashfulness, merely grinned.

"Yeah. It's kind of a twist on the animagus spell, really. Transfiguration, only... subtle, you know? Tonks actually taught me last summer."

"Taught you!" Harry yelped, rolling the tall redhead over and straddling his chest, "I swear, I am NEVER wasting a summer in Little Winging again! Now show me!"

And suddenly there were breasts -- soft, smallish, and fascinating under Harry's spread palms. 

He caught his breath, ragged in his teeth as his cock surged to instant attention. "Ron?"

A blush camouflaged his freckles as Ron bit his lip. "Yeah, Harry?"

The slight boy leaned back, sought behind him with a wicked hand that knew its way round a zip. Ron whimpered to feel that seeker-strong grip curl around his cock. "Show me something else..."


	9. The devil is in the details.

"You're sure it's right?"

"It's a potion, mate, I'm as sure as I can be..."

"That's it! No way I'm using this!"

Come on now, don't look like that! You saw the ingredients, there's nothing poisonous in it!"

"That doesn't mean anything!"

"Harry! I'm hurt!"

"Ron! It's Avada Kedavara green -- nothing that colour is supposed to go inside you!"

"Alright, fine! It can go inside me then if you're so squeamish."

"Ron, no don't!"

"No, if you're going to be a prat, then I'm proving it to you one way or anothooooh."

"Oooh?"

"Ooooooooohthat's nice. Really niiiice."

"Well... Maybe I'll-"

"Snarl!"

"...Ron? If you'll just put a little on my-"

"GrrrrrrrOOWR!"

"YOW! Gerroff! Stop biting, dammit Ron! Petrificus totalis!"

"Yipe!"

"...You do realize Hermione will never let us live this down, don't you?."

"Whimper."


End file.
